Lethal
by DentedAluminum
Summary: Felicia and Chiara haven't lived in a house since they were young and safe. After THAT though, they had to learn the art of pick-pocketing and independent survival. Until that fateful day when a Spaniard crashes into a pole and into their lives, helping them, supporting what they do. But does she? Nyo!talia, Nyo!Spamano Mafia AU, More later


**Super short note: for those following Heads or Tails: DenNor edition, don't worry I'm still going to be writing those. Also, if you find this fic to be moving so fast it loses meaning quickly, please tell me and I'll try to fix it. 3/4 view recommended.**

* * *

When a house stands still, it's usually because the owners are gone. Or they have been sucked up by extraterrestrials.

But when a house stands still and the windows are open and the lights merry, what is one supposed to think then? There was no sound flowing out of the doors or movement to be seen, but, it still looked, well, alive. It looks warm, inviting, and ready to move into. Even though the walls have holes, and the structure is rotting, and the roof may have a huge part missing, it still looks _inviting_ …

OH, and do **not** walk in. If you value life, that is. **If** you do, watch out for the bowling balls and for the swinging paint cans. Watch out for the glowering skeleton and the flaming marbles coming your way.

You might trip.

Well, I suppose you'd be able to get in if you were a friend of the Vargas sisters. Which is impossible. They don't have any friends and I doubt they ever will.

Go on, laugh. It's funny.

Well, anyways, if you were a friend of them, they would have told you to step to the right then to the left, then duck and roll. Ah yes, Felicia and Chiara: the two girls that lived in the battered house in a suburb of Chicago. Don't let them fool you, for they can do more than just set up traps and pickpocket.

The pair did just that and stepped straight into the house's old living room, steering clear of the spots in the carpet where the foundation showed or the discoloring looked too bad. They sat side by side and opened the laptop they shared. While there was no internet, the bulky device had been one of the few items they had rescued from the fire, and there was no way they'd be leaving anything from _That_ behind except memories.

Candle light danced on the wall-length windows in the room as other smaller ones were opened to allow fresh air to circulate. (Well, as fresh as it was going to get.) The Vargas' took the laptop and checked over all the files necessary to convince future employers that they were totally legitimate adults. Speaking of employers,

"2nd time in 3 months?!"

"I know right? New record!"

"Okay, but maybe spilling the 'oil' all over the breadsticks wasn't such a good idea."

"Wow, it's almost like you don't trust me," 19-year-old Feli drawled. "He was a total wreck. Besides, they never come looking for us."

Chiara rolled her eyes and poked her younger sister's forehead. "And you don't think they eventually will?"

"Nah. Besides, if they do, I'm sure we can take them in a fight." She put her fists up and whispered to an imaginary offender, "Come at me, bro."

The other knitted her brows together in an obvious attempt to understand the auburn-haired girl before her. Nope. Didn't work. "Whatever. As long as we get our frizzling shizzle together, we'll be fine."

"…"

"Oh what is it now?"

"It's okay you know. To swear." A green-eyed-glare drilled into her, but the stubborn girl paid no mind. "Look, th-they've been gone for years, okay? You can drop the act."

"We're not going to discuss this now," Chiara snapped as she threw the laptop shut.

Ah, yes. This pair lives in balance. A curt denying one and an open acceptor as the other. However, truth be told, neither one of them was truly over the events of that day.

;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 _FIRE, HAPPINESS, DEATH_

 _SHOUTS, THINGS, SMOKE_

 _THEM, FIRST, BIRTH_

 _CHOCOLATE MILK_

;-;;-;;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;

The hum of a ventilator pulled the excess steam from the stuffy, worn down bathroom, allowing for a clearer look. Chiara raised her eyes to confront the problem in front of her.

Herself.

She looked straight into the dusty, cracked reflection. " _Everything about me is wrong."_ Wild, untamable, curly hair framed a frowning, pudgy face. _"I can't seem to do anything right. Felicia was always the prettier one."_

Chiara sank down to the unkempt floor. She curled up and rested her head against the shower door. _"Always prettier and kinder and sweeter and funnier and..."_ She closed her eyes _._

 _"Better than that_ other _grumpy Vargas."_

The young Italian looked back at herself in the full length piece of junk of a mirror. It had been many months since the sisters had been in a real house and had a full meal. They had been jumping around from one abandoned building to another here in the city. It was never safe, but they managed to push through and get a bit of honest work where they could. They had long been used to bad conditions, might as well put their skills to work. Of course, nothing had been the same after _That_. But, after all, it is survival of the fittest, isn't it?

There was no time to go around looking in mirrors however. While they would always show the same ugly face, Chiara's situation was always changing. They had just run out of money again, and while this building luckily had running water, it did not have an ideal location. It was time to keep moving anyways.

"Felicia!" she called out, "get your sorry butt out of your room and come help me catalog."

"Coming!"

Chiara dragged herself over to the main room. It was dark, dinghy, and smelled like puke but it was still in better condition than plenty of places they had been in. Everything they owned fit in this room. Felicia jogged in, smiling and ready to sit down and work. " _Sorella!_ Quello stiamo facendo oggi?"

"Didn't you hear me? We're cataloging our supplies. Now, get to it or I'll make sure _your_ next soap bar gets cut in half."

Felicia sat down and pulled out her notebook. She narrowed her eyes and pouted, "You wouldn't."

"Never say never."

Over the course of two hours, the two had successfully pulled everything from its hiding place and packed it all into their corresponding duffel bags. The inventory consisted of two sets of clothing each, the travel sized soap, shampoo, toothpaste, toothbrushes, a hair brush, pads, three pencils, a pen, a terribly mixed rubix cube, two worn out and heavily used blankets, the saturated notebook used to keep record on just about everything, and a pack of gum that seemed to never dwindle.

Food-wise, a box of saltine crackers, a couple of bruised bananas, and a bag of beef jerky makes a few meals. You know, beef jerky sandwiches with banana garnish, or maybe, banana mush with chunks of cracker and jerky, or, hey, even banana sandwiches with cracker in the middle and jerky topping.

Okay, so it wasn't much, but they got by well enough. Besides, less stuff means faster travel. Now, _that_ was something the duo had learned very early on.

 _Uncomfortably_ early on.

Bags all packed, Felicia toddled over to the window and huffed on it until the recognizable cloud of breath was visible. She put her finger to glass and quickly sketched out a little portrait of two sisters, one smiling and the other scowling. "Hey, Ira?"

"What?"

"What happens when we die?"

Startled, Chiara flinched. "Jeez, Feli. What kind of question is that?"

She smiled slightly and replied, "Sorry…, I was just thinking about the people who used to live here… Do you think…they ever thought someone would be using this building for a shelter? It used to be so, full of life until they..."

The older Vargas walked over to the miss, slinging her arm around the other. Together they looked out towards the wasted landscape. The windows were completely broken and the dank grass was colored a horrible splotchy red. Who knows what happened here. Maybe it had been something as innocent as spilling red paint.

Maybe, a happy family used to play board games in this very spot. Maybe they laughed and the colors of the carpet weren't horrible. Maybe they spent Christmas' and birthdays together in the kitchen or the dining room. Maybe it was warm and maybe, just maybe, they all cared.

;-;-;-;-;-;;-;-;

The pair walked out of the ramshackle building with duffel bags in hand and sleeping bags over the shoulder. Dried leaves and brittle rock ground against their feet, yet by no means would the two look down to check what their worn-out sneakers crushed. They refused to look back at the run-down factory that had been their home for a few months. They refused to allow themselves to believe it would always be this way, running from nothing.

"Well, what now?"

Chiara stared straight ahead as she breathed, "I don't know." They continued walking quietly along the street, going nowhere, getting nowhere, letting themselves be led by the massive crowds, weaving through people and letting them pass first. Quiet engulfed them, making a thin bubble against words that would only serve to upset them both.

But was Felicia, the girl who would always bring the extremely controversial topics in debate up, who discussed human rights daily at the dinner table, who attempted to care for everybody and anybody who needed it, was she actually supposed to keep quiet? The heat of unspoken words caused a thin bead of sweat to roll down her neck. Finally, she mustered up the courage to act.

" _Sorella_?"

"What?"

Felicia nervously looked at her sister and began, "Chiara, can we talk abou–"

"No."

The normally bouncy and optimistic girl sunk down and retreated into herself a little. The bubble was broken. Chiara noticed, but didn't say anything. There was no way she could bring up that topic yet. They continued walking, looking for _Now Hiring_ signs and avoiding past employers. They didn't need a scene, and they _especially_ didn't need the police involved. A woman stormed past them, furiously speaking to herself. She roughly shoved Chiara out of the way and passed right through her.

"Watch where you're going, stupid!"

 _ **CLANG**_

Everybody in the vicinity spared a glance towards where the sound was coming from. A single look revealed the now-dazed-looking woman had run straight into a lamppost. Felicia quickly rushed over in an attempt to help her. "Miss! Are you alright?"

"I–I'm fine…"

"Chiara! Get over here right now!" The commanding tone startled the 22-year-old out of her reverie and snapped her back into reality.

Chiara bit back a snicker and joined her sister in assisting the poor thing. They each took an arm to provide support to her. "Count of three?" she checked. Her sister nodded in agreement and began.

"One…" What had ridiculous-ruffled-dress been thinking?

"Two…" She was wearing _such_ a bewildered expression. It couldn't have been that hard of a fall.

"Three!" Kinda attractive too.

Felicia yanked on the woman's arm even as her sister had seemingly forgotten about helping. The three went tumbling and Chiara whacked her head on the very pole the other woman had hit herself on. "SHI-"

"Chiara! Not in front of others!" Felicia squealed. "I'm so sorry, Miss! She's not usually like this." The Italian girl moved in to help her sister, checking for injuries and stopping at the deathly glare the other was shooting her.

Or was she? Ridiculous-ruffled-dress towered over ridiculous-swearing-problems as they locked eyes, almost as if to say, "The _heck_ is up with that pole, huh?"

The woman stretched and shook a little to revive her limbs and proceeded to turn her attention to the pair. She cracked a smile at them. " _¡Muchísimas gracias, chicas!_ Thank you so much!" She cocked her head to the side in a lopsided grin. "I do appreciate it. But, I can tell this city is a tough one isn't it? It looks like you two were the only ones who attempted to help me." Her smile grew slightly strained as she added under her breath, "Even though I _was_ supposed to have back up."

"Please don't thank us…, seriously…," the two frowned.

She only beamed more. "Not only are you helpful, you're humble too! My, my… Oh! Wait a second!" She turned to her laptop carrier and began digging around in it. "It's here somewhere… Ah! Here." The woman handed them a king-sized Hershey's bar. "It's a little broken now, but it should taste just fine. Take it as my thanks." She shoved it into the hands of the still scowling one and watched as the expression slowly softened.

The sisters looked at the chocolate in awe. " _Sorrella_ ," Felicia started to say as she turned to her sister.

"Shh," Chiara reminded. "Later." The two finally looked up to find the woman already turned around and ready to leave.

"Good luck, girls!" she winked. "By the way, I'm Isabella. Nice meeting you! ¡ _Adios_ ~!"

Chiara rolled her eyes and turned back to Felicia. That had been quite enough drama for the day. They gathered the duffel bags and continued looking for a place to stay.

;-;-;-;-;-;

Late afternoon. Dark, shetchy part of city.

Gosh, it really was horrible here, wasn't it? The young Italians looked around the stores, most barren with "For Sale" signs plastered over grey, dust-thickened windows. The streets were mostly empty here and a heavy scent of cigarette smoke hung limply in the air. Too bad the skyscrapers obscured the view of the sunset and of the pale indigo rising from the river.

Felicia dragged herself across the sidewalk, used to the exercise, but not necessarily liking it. Her breath attempted to slow down and catch up to her heart rate. "Hey, Chiara," she noted in between breaths, "You don't think they'd find us in here in Chicago, right?"

Chiara shifted the weight of her pack to the other shoulder and turned back to look at Feli, who never got an answer.

* * *

 **Okay, I feel like no one is updating their fanfictions and there has been a huge decrease in flow of new ones, obviously because school started. Please, tell me if I should continue this because I'm not sure when's the next time I'll be able to do something like this. Uh, this chapter was probably really confusing, but I swear, there's so much I've planned for this story I just can't even.**

 **REMINDER: Nyo! Is very different from Fem! And I'll really try to make sure I'm writing the right person. (Characterization is hard…) Also, I chose to use Felicia instead of Alice because even though we all know how it's pronounced, a lot of people still pronounce it in soft c and I wanted to keep the Italian aspect of it? I don't know, but if you think I should change to to Alice, send me a word and an explanation why. I sound like a teacher, whoops.**

 **And thank you so much for actually reading to the end of this wow.**


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